Heather bumps me with her shoulder. “So what was the original idea?”
“Huh?”
Her smirk deepens. “You said the pie contest was way better than what they first suggested. What was it?”
“A dunk tank.”
Her laugh rings out, filling the classroom, and I find myself laughing with her. “That was a hard pass for me.”
“But why not?” she teases, eyes sparkling with amusement. “I would've paid good money to watch you take an ice bath.”
I straighten and point at her. “Exactly! There would've been a line wrapped around the block just waiting to dunk me.”
“Oh, come on. It would be for charity.” She swats my chest playfully. “You're the most popular guy in town right now. It wouldn't be malicious, just good fun.”
“It's less about public humiliation and more about the freezing water,” I counter. “I’ll do just fine in a pie-eating contest, thank you very much. Though honestly, some of the guys on my roster will probably eat circles around me. Those kids can put away a serious amount of food.”
“I still think it's a missed opportunity. But I can't argue with you there.” She shivers dramatically. “An ice bath sounds miserable. Although I wouldn't mind seeing the mayor take a dunk. He can be kind of a tool sometimes.”
“I’ve noticed,” I say dryly.
A small hand tugs at my shirt, and I glance down to find a young boy standing next to me, clutching what appears to be a drawing.
“Mr. Maddox. Would you sign my picture?” He holds it up, and I grin when I recognize the ball field he's drawn.
“Absolutely!” I take the picture carefully and lay it on the desk, reaching for a pen. “What’s your name, buddy?”
“Max.” The kid's not much bigger than Violet, but he's got a presence about him that's impressive for a four-year-old. His chest puffs out with pride. “I wanna be a baseball player like you.”
Something warm settles in my chest. “Well, that's great, Max.” I sign a little note for him and hand it back. “Don't give up on that dream.”
The boy stares at the picture like it's made of gold. “I won't,” he whispers before turning and slowly walking back to his table, where he carefully lays it out and gazes at it in wonder.
“Oh my god.” Heather's hand closes around my arm. “I just had the best idea.”
I use it as an excuse to shift closer. “I'm listening.”
“What if you and the team held a youth baseball program, like a winter camp? For kids in the area. The exposure for The Rockets would be fantastic.”
I look at her, amazed all over again. Heather is fucking brilliant. Not that I needed reminding. “That's genius.” I stroke my chin thoughtfully. “We'd have to clear it with legal, but I'll pitch it to Melody tomorrow.”
“She's your marketing manager, right? I met her and Henry during the ticket drive at the library.” She nudges me playfully. “They're both pretty sharp. You made good choices there.”
“The board hired them from Chicago about six months ago to help turn things around.” I nudge her right back. “Actually, she was raving about you in our meeting today.”
“Really? What'd she say?”
“That all your ideas have been gold. Apparently they'd been spinning their wheels for months, and you gave them the breakthrough they needed.”
Her smile widens. “Well, that's awesome.”
“So where are we having dinner tonight, your place or mine?” I ask. It might come across as needy, but I don't care anymore. This routine we've established, spending our evenings together, has become something I crave. It brings a kind of peace I can't really describe.
Her head tilts slightly, and my gaze immediately drops to the elegant line of her neck. I wonder if her skin tastes as good as I imagined it back in high school. Teenage me was all raging hormones and fantasy, but adult me genuinely wants to find out. I want to press my lips against that soft skin and drag them down to where her neck curves into her shoulder, maybe leave a visible mark that she's mine.
I suppress a grin. That would definitely set Pelican Point tongues wagging.
“You said you wanted to grill tonight, remember?”
